They Want Me Dead

A Cold Hearted Street

On a Street in South Philly.

Now, I'm 22 years old living in South Philly, the streets are at its coldest and still the hustle goes on in the dark, cold hearted streets. I'm living a hustler's life, where nothing motivates me more than money, power, fast cars, and bitches. Every day is tough for me because I hustle for money, power, and respect as well as for my life. In the bloodthirsty streets of Philly, the people are born killers, everybody has a gun, and the lifespan is very short. So I guess my hood is slowly dying.

It started to be clear that I did the same routine every day in the same order. I did work on my block 22nd & Reed st for a couple of hours with my best friend, Calvin. Then after my regular customers would come by I would go over to my brother, Kyleito to help him move some heavy shit on his block 21st & Fernon st. Shit you have to stay strapped 24/7, where any regular nigga couldn't just move this shit, you had to know what the fuck you was doing or your dumb ass was done for. This shit Kyleito was moving wasn't no fucking joke. Clown ass young boys stayed away from this shit. It was some grown ass man business, which we knew very well. So the squad didn't have a problem fucking with it. We did what we do best, which was making money and keeping the hood happy.

Meanwhile, I would always get a phone call about a nigga who wants a couple dimes or nicks. So I would walk to my block to get Calvin. "Yo, Cal. Some nigga on 20th want a couple dimes". He would say "Oh Alight we should go get that money". Then we would stand up, shake on it, and meet up with dude. We approach him. "Old head, I got some new shit for you" Then he would say "Yeah, that's it fam but I only have a 10". I would say it was alright but Cal would always remind me of how shit is supposed to be done. Cal would interrupt by saying "Naw, this is shit ain't cool, Old head. You a couple dollars short and if you don't have all the money you don't get shit, fam". Then, I would pull Cal aside and explain to him why I do the shit the way that I do it. "Cal, I thought you didn't give a fuck about this shit. I thought you just wanted to get a couple dollars and move on"
"Look, Tyre I just need some extra money to provide for my baby mom and lil Cal".
"We need to take what comes to us; we can't just sit around waiting for it. We gotta make moves, nigga". I would turn back to the nigga "Just give me the 10 and I'll give you want you need, old head but next time your black ass better have my money plus interest".
Then the old head would walk off into the dark alley way with the smell of burning flesh and beer in the air as me and Cal would keep it moving to do the same shit the next day.

I live on 26th Street, with my mom, my two little brothers Malik and Shaun, and my sister Jamie. My crib was different from the other houses on the block because it is the only crib paid for as well as the only crib that was built from the ground up. It's a three story house with five bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a big basement, where all the dollar parties in Philly are most likely to be thrown at. It has a pool which damn near takes up the whole back yard, where all the bad bitches with phat asses and small bikinis are welcome. My mom was a Lawyer, representing clients all over the Tri-state area, killing the system with justice. So I guess she had connections in high places. My mom was the type of woman, who knows how to handle her business and still be official. She didn't take any shit from anybody; she stayed on the grind even when she's not at work. She keeps the house clean, she kept us fresh since we were babies, with fresh gear from New York, Atlanta, Paris and some shit from England. Her dress game is the definition of official. She stays pushing fly cars; she has custom lavender BMW with 26 inch rims and a banging ass stereo system. I drove her car a couple times but, she doesn't trust me with her baby. So, I steal cars and sell them to dirty car dealers for a couple hundred now. I always made a way to get what I wanted.

I walked to my crib on 26th Street; I never liked coming home late because my mom would always tell me that "there's nothing but trouble in the streets pass 10 pm". So I walked in the house but i never turned the lights on because I didn't wanna wake anybody up. I made my way pass the dinning room but with the smell of cigarette smoke I knew I was caught. My mom was sitting in the living room, smoking and waiting for me. "Tyre, Where in the hell have you been?" She said with an irritated expression on her face.
"I've been chilling with my peoples."
"Oh so you stay out all night chilling huh? Is that all you and your people are doing out there?"
"Yeah, What more can we do?"
"Well I'm guessing nothing but non sense, Tyre. I know what you doing out there"
"Mom, what are you talking about?"
"Tyre, don't play fucking dumb with me. I know already your girlfriend told me this afternoon. When you were in and out of the house from 11 to 3:00 in the morning."
"What did she say?" I said as she started to get up off of the couch.
"She told me that you were selling drugs. And i swear Tyre you're becoming just like your father. Honestly I don't understand why you do stupid shit."
"Mom, you just don't get it."
"No Tyre you won't get it until your in jail or dead. And you know what Tyre? I'm not going to help out of this time when you get caught. I love you but your not a little boy anymore. So you wanted to do your own thing so I'm goinh to let you do what you think is best but you're not going to put our family in jeopardy with your actions. So just get out of my house and you'll find out how a hustler's life is."
"Ok I'll leave" I said with a question on my mind of how much I've hurt my mom and my family in the past with all of the anger I have hidden since my brother died.
I can see all of the pain in my mother's face as I walked out of the door but I needed to leave so she wouldn't hurt anymore.

I start to walk in the dark streets to go to my girlfriend, Nicole's house with dark figures moving all over, cars speeding from corner to corner, and the smell of death creeping up from behind. As I walk to the El, I see a group of people walking toward me. At that time, I wasn't sure who my friends or enemies were because of the shit I was doing in the streets. So I put my right hand on my gun waiting for someone to make the wrong move. A deep voice from the group says "What's good, Tyre?"
Still confused about who these people were, I say "Chillin, who wanna know?"
Then a big man comes from the middle of the group and says "Big Q from North Philly."
"What's good, Big Q? What you doing down South?" I say as I show him some love. He says
"I'm just doing what I know best. Me and my crew going to a party."
"Yea I heard about that but I'll get at you when ever I come over north"
"Alight fam just hit me up with some work"
Big Q and his crew walks off as I get on the El.

As I'm riding to West Philly I start to think about the death of my brother. My brother was the only person who can understand me. We were the same as well as different. We looked exactly alike but we didn't think the same. We were ambitious but about different things. He understood a lot about the world, the things that I was too afraid to deal with, the things that made people want to make a difference in the world. My brother was a man even though his age would say different. He was my role model even though we were the same age. I was always the one in trouble, he was always the one getting good grades. I never would've imagined that he would be taken away so quick. I think about Kyre everyday and I hear his voice telling me to be a better person but I keep pushing him away like I would if he was still alive. If I think about it he was my father figure and I looked up to him.